


Making Believe

by Sorted



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Qunari Culture and Customs, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorted/pseuds/Sorted
Summary: Dorian suggested a little roleplaying. It was a good idea. (All Dorian's ideas are good ideas.)





	Making Believe

**Author's Note:**

> This comes up in that Untitled Longer Fic I'm still working on (and still can't think of a title for) and I had drafted this scene to fit in somewhere, but I'm getting close (CLOSE!) to done now and it looks like this won't fit for pacing reasons, so I am posting it as a very short PWP stand-alone. If you read Untitled when I get it done, you can imagine this happening in the background at some later point in the story, or it can just live here, unrelated and smutty all by itself.

Ashkaari was sitting at his desk, writing a report. He’d retired for the evening to his quarters above the eating-house, having finished his daily tasks with the other tamassrans and the education center. When the knock came on his door, he called “Enter,” and began to set aside his papers and pull out his log book.

The door opened, and a viddathari entered—but not one of their students at the education center. The man looked tall and strong, for a human, and Ashkaari had not seen him before. He had darker coloring—a Northerner, Antivan or possible even Tevinter by birth.

“Honored Tamassran,” the viddathari dipped his head slightly, “I require sexual relief.”

Ashkaari nodded. “Your designation?”

“Shok.” This, followed by the viddathari’s number.

_A fighter, then._ He almost smiled, as he recorded the designation and date, but he kept his face impassive. Glancing back at his records, though he didn’t truly need to, he commented, “You have not been here before.”

“A recent reassignment. I have spent several years in…Rivain.”

“How long has it been since your last relief?”

“I had access to a tamassran until seven weeks ago.”

“That explains your condition.” Ashkaari glanced down at Shok’s groin, and the visible bulge in his trousers. The viddathari’s needs were quite obvious. “Please,” he indicated the massive bed, “be seated. I will attend you.”

Shok moved quickly to obey, shedding every scrap of clothing without hesitation and sitting on the edge of the bed, naked; Ashkaari was slower, more measured. He brought a low stool and placed it before Shok, then glanced up, just for a moment, pausing as his hands hovered above the man’s thighs. Shok only licked his lips and nodded. So Ashkaari proceeded, taking hold of strong thighs—his hands more than half encompassed each of them—and pushing them apart to give himself room to work. Shok let him, leaning back slightly—an unnecessary display, but perhaps he did it without thinking. An old habit from his pre-enlightened days.

Bare coppery skin shone in the lamplight, slightly darker upon the man’s flushed and full cock. Ashkaari suspected he was being invited to simply _look_ and admire the man’s body—but that was not necessary for his role. So instead, he neatly oiled his hands before wrapping one around the viddathari’s shaft, the other cupping his testicles. Shok shifted with a breathy moan. His shaft was very hard already, and his sac felt heavy indeed; he would probably need several orgasms today. For the first, Ashkaari leaned close and took his visitor’s erection into his mouth, sucking him skillfully. 

The viddathari moaned aloud, hands flying to Ashkaari’s horns. “What…” A breathless pant, hips rolling slightly into his mouth. “What are you called, Honored Tamassran?”

For a moment, his only answer was to take Shok down to the root. Shok was somewhat large for a human, but tamassrans learned to do this skillfully for much larger males, so Ashkaari did not struggle to accept Shok into his throat. He swallowed around the head several times, making the human gasp and quiver. Then, he drew back, letting Shok’s cock slip from between his lips, and answered, “Ashkaari. Lie down and open your legs.” Again, Shok obeyed immediately. Ashkaari raised one of Shok’s legs and then returned to sucking. He eased one oiled hand between Shok’s legs to touch his opening. He was not surprised at all by the shudder in the man’s body, the throb of his shaft, or the breathless moan of want.

Gently, Ashkaari pushed one thick, callused finger into Shok’s opening. The rim stretched slightly around it as he tested the body’s resistance. It was predictably tight; Shok would need to be carefully stretched after so many weeks. Ashkaari continued sucking, working the man’s hole slowly, his second finger tracing the rim, but not slipping inside, yet. 

A shaking hand touched his head, but did not push—did not need to, as Ashkaari took him into his throat again. A long moan; then—“Will you put your cock inside me, Ashkaari?”

He allowed the question—viddathari, after all, sometimes forgot it was not their role to ask. He pulled off again, slowly. “Of course. It is what you need.” With that, Ashkaari began to press the second finger inside. Shok pushed eagerly down on his fingers, taking them well for a male who had not been penetrated in weeks or more. Ashkaari was forced to use his free hand to still Shok’s hips and allow him to work. He took the dripping head of the man’s member between his lips again to divert him from trying to impale himself on Ashkaari’s fingers.

Instead, however, he felt Shok’s foot sneak along the inside of his leg, inching toward his groin. Ashkaari had to stop holding Shok down in order to use his hand to remove the touch before Shok could begin to rub his cock. He chided gently, hot breath against wet skin, “You forget your place, viddathari. Cease, and allow me to relieve you.”

The male groaned heavily. “I was only trying to help.” Then he bit his lip and began again in a more steady tone, “I apologize, Ashkaari. You did say you intended to penetrate me. I only wished to assist you, and I thought perhaps you had not become erect yet.”

Ashkaari bit back a smile. “Have no fear. My male organ will be able to relieve you.” 

Shok lifted his head and gave Ashkaari a twisted, wry look. “ _Male organ…_ ” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. “Then, if there is no difficulty, will you penetrate me _now_ , Honored Tamassran?”

Ashkaari’s voice was deep and rumbling. “I will penetrate you when it is time. You need to orgasm once before I do that.” Then, insistently, he sucked Shok’s member down again as he eased in a third finger and began to rub the man’s prostate. That silenced the chatty viddathari quickly enough.

Or…well, not _silenced_ , but it stopped all the talk. 

Shok moaned loudly, his hands grasping for and finding Ashkaari’s horns. He writhed on the thick fingers, pushing back and opening up for Ashkaari and utterly failing to hold still and allow the tamassran to relieve him, as he should have done. But, of course, he was viddathari, and perhaps Ashkaari should be more patient than usual—especially when he had been without relief for seven weeks.

In a very short time, the man’s thick erection pulsed inside Ashkaari’s mouth, ejaculating in rapid spurts as he cried out in delight. Ashkaari drank his visitor’s seed—not something he did every time, but it was efficient, and Shok was a handful in his extremity. It was simpler just to swallow.

Finally, a miracle—the viddathari lay still, and Ashkaari released his spent member, but he did not remove his fingers. He left the man’s prostate alone in favor of stretching him even further—adding extra oil as needed. It was wise to be gentle with viddathari; they were so much smaller. Ashkaari considered using a tool, next—he had one or two that were made in smaller sizes, for viddathari. Then again, Shok was stretched quite well…and judging by his responses, tools were probably not what he needed right now. And, if Ashkaari were to guess, he suspected this one would not submit quietly if he disagreed with the tamassran’s judgement. He’d probably continue to complain if Ashkaari did not give him his cock— _soon_.

So, leaving the corrective lecture for later, Ashkaari rose to remove his own clothing. From where he lay on the bed, Shok watched him with rapt eyes. His member stirred against his thigh, his gaze hungry as he stared openly at Ashkaari’s large erection—which was fully hard and ready, _without_ assistance, as a matter of fact. Ashkaari took himself in hand and reached for the oil, but stopped when he noticed Shok moving.

The viddathari had taken hold of himself and was kneading under the crown of his cock, hastening the return of his erection. His other hand had crept between his legs and begun to play with his own stretched and oiled hole. Ashkaari had to stop again, and reach out to remove Shok’s hands from himself. “No,” he patiently explained, as though to a wayward child. “I will see to your relief. You—”

A frustrated huff cut him off. “Kaffas, Bull, this really isn’t very erotic.”

Smothering a bemused chuckle, The Iron Bull answered, “I did tell you it was mostly like seeing a healer.”

“Well, yes, but a _naughty_ healer! A healer who’s going to start touching you inappropriately and then fuck you!”

Bull chuckled. “Dorian, there’s nothing ‘inappropriate’ about visiting a tamassran. If you wanted to play ‘naughty healer,’ we should have just done that.”

A dark glare. “That won’t do at all.”

 

Dorian didn’t want to discuss his reasons all that much, but it seemed to him that Bull could use a taste of home, sometimes. He’d been Tal-Vashoth for quite a while now; it didn’t seem to sting as much anymore. It was only…the way Bull looked when he had a chance to use a Qunlat word. Or the light in his eye when he told them some happy memory from home. Dorian wanted to play a _qunari_ game, and when he’d suggested this one, Bull _had_ seemed quite interested. Dorian just hadn’t thought the sex would be so clinical, or so bloody one-sided. _Perhaps another game…_ “What about that horrible trash book from Kirkwall, about the arvaarad and the saarebas…?” Not that he wanted to try on one of those collars, not even for a game, but perhaps just regular bindings…

But Bull made an uncomfortable face at that. “Arvaarad don’t fuck saarebas, Dorian. It would be…” He shook his head. “It would not be consensual.”

“Oh.” Dorian sat up. “Well, isn’t there anything that can be naughty under the Qun?”

Bull shrugged and joined him on the bed. “Anyone having sex with someone who is not a tamassran. That’s…” he hummed, “not much better than the arvaarad and saarebas thing, though. To a human, it would be like fucking your sibling, I think. You just don’t do it.”

Dorian didn’t have siblings, but he could understand the taboo. He huffed. “So as long as you’re visiting a tamassran, there’s nothing naughty about any of it. You have one rule and no one particularly thinks of breaking it? Maker’s breath, Bull, I hardly mind sex without any attachment, but without even the thrill of the forbidden to make it exciting?”

“The forbidden isn’t thrilling to most Qunari,” Bull shrugged. “It means a loss of the self to break from your role. It’s like dying…or worse than dying. It’s not very tempting.”

There was a short pause, during which Dorian pulled the blanket up around himself—already growing chilled, sitting there naked. “Well.” He glanced at the Bull, who clearly didn’t feel cold. “This has become a rather dreary topic.” Not at all his intent when setting out.

“Hmmm.” Bull absently rubbed his knee. “I suppose there’s one possibility…”

“Yes?” Dorian perked up hopefully.

“Could get a little overly dramatic…”

“How so?”

“Like…the shit in the Seeker’s romance novels dramatic.”

“Ohhh.” Dorian blinked. “How does that happen, then?”

Bull leaned back on an arm and looked at him. “Well…the tamassrans keep records—like we acted out a minute ago. That’s partly to make sure no one’s over-indulging, and it’s also a little bit to make sure no one gets too exclusive with the tamassran they visit.”

“Truly?” Dorian shifted around, interested in the idea.

“Yeah. It doesn’t happen much, but it can. Somebody starts to prefer a tamassran, when there’s not supposed to be any reason to seek one over another. Or there has been the rare tamassran who had to be reeducated because she didn’t want to perform her role anymore…because she only wanted to do it for a certain person.”

“This is still a rather dark scenario, then.” Having one’s mind broken for developing feelings? Dorian felt a little sick.

“Yeah, but a book would ignore that part anyway. So don’t worry about it. Just hang on to the idea that there’s danger to the scenario…if we’re caught.” He winked. 

Dorian felt a spark of hope at Bull’s change of mood. “Ah, so it’s _we_ in this scene?”

“Could be.” Bull smiled. “Could be a viddathari started to prefer a tamassran, who noticed but didn’t want to report it. It’s not very realistic, but as long as we’re avoiding realism anyway…”

Dorian leaned up and cut him off with a warm, sudden kiss. Then he chuckled. “Maker. Don’t tell Cassandra about this.” He sat back again. “Shall we start over entirely? It does seem to beg for a different mood.”

Bull agreed, and they quickly dressed themselves again—a task that was interrupted when they both crumpled back onto the bed in laughter at the sight of each other trying to stuff their semi-hard dicks into their pants and wincing in discomfort. Bull’s pants turned out to have their advantages, being much more accommodating of an erection than Dorian’s tight trousers.

Finally, delicately wiping tears from his eyes, Dorian got a hold of himself and paused with his hand on the outer door latch, smiling. “All right. I’ll count to thirty—no more. This viddathari is terribly impatient.” And that was an understatement. He’d been thoroughly prepared, but not fucked at all, and Bull was _right there_ , and he desperately hoped the scene would work for them this time—and work _quickly_. 

Bull grinned back at him and sat at his desk again.

 

A few deep breaths to clear the mind. He was Ashkaari, a tamassran. _Shok_ —Shok the viddathari had been coming here often. The tamassran looked down at his “log book” and imagined the name written over and over, dates growing closer together of late. 

He should report this.

Or…he could go on “failing to notice.”

He didn’t want to notice. He wasn’t supposed to _want_. But he wanted…he wanted a visitor, maybe. And he didn’t want to notice that he was imagining a specific visitor.

A knock, and Ashkaari looked up, hoping. “Enter.” The door opened, and Ashkaari immediately stood with a smile. “Shok. I knew you would come today.” He couldn’t say _I hoped_ , but _I knew_ was close enough.

The viddathari swallowed, smiling nervously. He shut the door, perhaps a little too firmly. There was an energy about him, a restlessness. “Please excuse me, Honored Tamassran, I know it has not been a full week since my last visit but…” Ashkaari had already crossed to him, stopping right in front of him, close enough to catch the wonderful, rich scent of him. Ashkaari clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching. “I…ah, I need…”

“Yes,” Ashkaari breathed, giving in and reaching out to touch Shok’s upper arms and pull him close. “I will gladly relieve you.”

Shok moaned and melted against him. His smaller hands were warm against Ashkaari’s chest—only warm, but the touch seared him like fire. He bent low, and their mouths hovered mere inches apart, but…but such a thing was unnecessary. Useless. Meaningless. Ashkaari knew what it was, as he knew what everything was, but it wasn’t something he used. No one needed it. Except… _Shok might. He might…need it._ But something inside him trembled at the thought. Instead, Ashkaari touched the viddathari’s clothed cock—already full and eager. 

Shok moaned again and pushed against his hand—and Ashkaari didn’t reprimand him. “Have you…” He blinked, gathering himself as Shok pressed against his body, the scent of his hair drawing Ashkaari, making him want to bury his face in it. “Have you received your next assignment yet?”

Suddenly still, Shok answered. “Not officially. But…it should be soon. And I have heard that it is likely I will be sent to…Rivain.”

His stomach clenched. “You will be here a little longer, though?”

“Yes. Perhaps weeks. The antaam has to…well. Perhaps a few more weeks.”

Ashkaari knew it had already been many weeks since Shok came here; much longer was unlikely. Still, he smiled, his large hands gently unfastening the viddathari’s trousers and exposing him. He wrapped one hand around the hard shaft. “For now,” he whispered…and then stopped. That was all—all of this was _for now_.

Shok nodded, and they moved as one to the bed. Ashkaari shed his clothing easily, and had nearly undressed his visitor by the time Shok lay down. His large hands slid down warm thighs, taking the last of the man’s clothing away as he gazed upon the naked body revealed. Of course, he was looking to assess the visitor’s needs. Of course, he wasn’t enjoying the sight for himself. That wasn’t what tamassrans did. This wasn’t for _him_.

Shok allowed himself to be stripped without complaint, and he kept his hands obediently to himself…but when he was bare, his eyes met Ashkaari’s, and then he was turning over onto his stomach, undirected. Ashkaari knew he was supposed to reprimand the viddathari—he should know by now to let the tamassran direct him and see to his needs—but the words died on his lips and his hands caressed warm, smooth skin instead.

He could see the shine of oil and smell it too before he parted Shok and verified that his body was stretched open and oiled already. Straining to control himself, his voice came out rough. “You have not been over-indulging in masturbation, I hope.” It sounded hollow, even to Ashkaari. He gripped his own member and stroked himself as he reached for the oil bottle.

“Will you report me if I have?” the equally throaty voice shot back. Their eyes met again, Shok looking back over his shoulder to watch Ashkaari stroke himself, already achingly hard. “Will you it record in your logs if I tell you that I have pleasured myself every day since my last visit?”

“My records are…accurate,” Ashkaari began, slipping two fingers into Shok to check and make sure he had done a thorough job. “But I assume that without certain tools you cannot find proper relief, so I would imagine it was only a…meditation exercise?”

“Yes, Honored…Tamassran,” Shok groaned, arching his back as he spoke. It was an offer—of himself. It wasn’t appropriate.

Ashkaari accepted.

He oiled his cock and placed the head against Shok’s yielding entrance. The human’s body was screaming for him, open and hungry. It took no skill at reading people to know what he wanted, _needed_ more than anything. And Ashkaari would fulfill his need—it was his role. And he knew he was supposed to be satisfied and take joy in playing his part for the Qun, but he didn’t think he could remember a time when that joy had felt this real.

Ashkaari pressed his cock inside Shok, barely restraining himself to a slow penetration—but he must; anything else was quite unacceptable. If a visitor needed to be roughly fucked and dominated, that was fine, but no tamassran would begin that way. The body must be allowed to adjust, for purposes of health and safety. Rushing would speak of a selfish desire on the tamassran’s part, which simply could not be.

So Ashkaari slowly filled his visitor, biting his lip to muffle his own groan of bliss. _Such pleasure…_ His body was meant to serve its function, and enjoying the physical sensation was correct, as much as every servant of the Qun should enjoy their role for the good of all—but this pleasure was different. Ashkaari knew it, and knew with the same certainty that he could never tell anyone about it.

The viddathari cried out, dissolving into a moan of ecstasy as his rim stretched around the very base of Ashkaari’s erection. “Yes,” he gasped, arching his back and pressing closer—excusable, perhaps. Physiological reflexes he had no control over. “Yes, _oh_ …I needed…needed this. Needed you inside me again.”

Ashkaari leaned down, wrapping comforting arms around the viddathari, cradling him against his body. “You mean,” he swallowed, caught up in Shok’s scent, “you needed to be penetrated again.”

Shok squeezed his eyes shut in a tormented grimace, but he nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes.” Then he opened them and looked back over his shoulder, and his eyes said _no…no_.

Ashkaari felt the look shake him to his very core, and suddenly everything he’d told himself seemed to slip from his hands. The Qun’s certainty felt far away; there was only this beautiful viddathari, and the only certainty was their need for each other.

He couldn’t help it.

Ashkaari cupped the human’s face and pulled gently and kissed him.

The moment seemed to break every pretense. Shok returned the kiss with a desperation that tore through both of them as he twisted within the circle of Ashkaari’s arms. With big hands—they seemed so much more massive against the human’s body—Ashkaari turned Shok over, laid him down on his back, bent down over him, close…and suddenly they were passionately kissing and rutting together. Shok’s legs grasped his hips and pulled him in deep, into the soft, tight clasp of his body, and Ashkaari thrust in—too fast, too rough, too _wanting._ It was not at all like a tamassran caring for a visitor’s needs—it was very much like beasts in rut. Carnal, hot, messy…

Or perhaps there was another way of seeing it. Something far more secret and forbidden.

Shok trembled beneath him, and Ashkaari thrust deep, over and over. The viddathari rocked back against him each time, eagerly taking every inch of his cock, _wonderful, beautiful man._ “That’s good,” he murmured, “you’re doing good, very good. Yes, relax, take it. You need it…need me to fill you. Such a good human, so open for me…”

It was like the way _bas_ mated. Like _lovers_.

He wasn’t performing his role. He was enjoying it too much. But…but Shok was sweaty and eager under him, crying out, writhing, rubbing against him, clawless hands grabbing at his large body. He was getting what he needed. That was right, wasn’t it? To give Shok what he needed…

Ashkaari struggled. He couldn’t slow himself down. He was driving his cock rapidly into the warm channel of this man’s body—fighting to remember the Qun. Remember his role. _Asit tal eb_.

But the Qun had never given him anything as deeply satisfying as this man, his body, and the dreamlike look of bliss in his beautiful eyes…

Groaning in pleasure and need, his own _need,_ Ashkaari began to fuck powerfully into his partner. Shok felt the shift, the surrender, and he cried out with the exquisite pleasure, accepting everything. He, after all, had given up clinging to the Qun weeks ago. He could have gone to any tamassran. If he had been a good qunari, he would not have even known which tamassran’s door he knocked upon.

But he _had_ known. He knew before he came here today that he longed for something the Qun did not allow.

“Yes, yes, yes, please!” he begged, shameless, delirious with pleasure. “Ashkaari, Ashkaari, oh, fuck me harder, I need it—I need _you!_ ”

Moaning, half-ruined by the voice of this viddathari man, Ashkaari obeyed—he wasn’t supposed to _obey_ , he was supposed to _direct_ —thrusting hard and fast, with all his might, a bestial part of himself rearing its head to claim his mate, to fuck him for the joy and pleasure of it, not for the Qun, not for his role. 

And his deep, gravelly moan as he slammed his cock home inside his partner with blinding force sounded like, “ _Ka…da…nnnn…_ ”

With a cry of ecstasy, Shok went rigid in his arms and came, his seed spurting rapidly from his cock, Ashkaari’s teeth on his shoulder, biting, _claiming_ …

And although the tamassran had given orgasms to countless people with the calm detachment of duty, this one _mattered._ This one meant he had served his purpose in a way that went so much deeper than the purpose assigned to him. This _satisfied him_ , as he groaned and then roared, as his cock erupted, deep inside the body of his lover, filling him with his seed as Shok nearly sobbed, whispering “ _yes, yes, yes_ ” over and over.

Breath panting, muscles shaking, bodies humming—minds drifting.

Slowly, gently, Bull eased back, letting his cock slip free. Dorian made a thin sound, then sighed. “Maker, Bull, I…” But he stopped, then, as Bull rested one large finger upon his lips. Dorian’s eyes focused on him, but Bull shook his head, leaned down, and softly kissed him.

Wasn’t it strange how much such a meaningless thing could mean?

Then he got the water basin and a cloth and cleaned Dorian quietly, almost like an act of meditation. Dorian watched him, hovering between vacant bliss and curiosity, but he respected the request for silence.

Cleaning up didn’t take long enough—he hadn’t really processed everything in his head by the time he finished and lay down and Dorian rolled close, bodies pressed together, and Bull wrapped his arms around him. Dorian pressed a kiss to his clavicle, and Bull hummed.

“Sorry,” he finally managed, in a soft voice. “I just…got a little deep into the role, that time. Needed a minute to get back here.”

“You could have used the watchword,” Dorian offered, gray eyes watching his face with concern. “I didn’t intend to make you do something uncomfortable…”

“No. It wasn’t that.” But what was it? How to explain? “I just…” he sighed. “I dunno. I never was a tamassran. You sure as shit were never a viddathari. But somehow…that was a lot more real than I expected it to be.”

Dorian watched him, unmoving. Finally, Bull chuckled. “Bit of realism after all, I guess.”

“I think…” Dorian ventured, then paused. He ran a hand over Bull’s broad chest. “I think I’m glad to hear it.”

Bull smiled at him, and Dorian smiled back, and Bull thought to himself, _Kadan_.

And for the first time, he really was glad to be Tal-Vashoth.


End file.
